Crow and the Sea
by Emma CS Me
Summary: 'He tried ignoring the sea, he tried talking to the sea, he tried hating the sea, he tried sympathy for the sea, he tried just being in the same world as the sea.' (In which Bran tries, and fails, to make sense of Theon Greyjoy.)


**Author's Notes:** Written for the valar_morekinks prompt: "Bran + Theon – Crow and the Sea

 _He tried sympathy for the sea_  
 _But it shouldered him off - as a dead thing shoulders you off._

 _He tried hating the sea_  
 _But instantly felt like a scrutty dry rabbit-dropping on the windy cliff._

 _He tried just being in the same world as the sea_  
 _But his lungs were not deep enough_

Title & quotations come from the aforementioned poem by Ted Hughes.

Trigger warnings for referenced rape, torture and character death.

* * *

 **Crow and the Sea**

 _He tried ignoring the sea,_

Once they leave Winterfell, Bran resolves not to think about why. It's not a resolution he finds particularly easy to keep. But he tries, because it doesn't matter now; it's all done, Winterfell's gone, at least as he knows it, and he has elsewhere to be. The Three-Eyed Crow, Jojen tells him and Bran listens, because this is more important. This is his destiny. The dreams have been leading him here for years now, and he must follow; that's why he left, really – it had nothing to do with...

Winterfell is gone and he abandoned it, abandoned it twice over, and Rickon is gone somewhere with Osha as well, but he had to, Jojen says. He is not just Bran Stark anymore, he is something new, and Bran doesn't know what that is but he knows he is more than his father's son.

When Bran sleeps beneath the stars, shuddering through the cold, it is the future he dwells on, not the past. He is going to the Three-Eyed Crow. The Three-Eyed Crow will help him walk again. The Three-Eyed Crow will show him what his destiny is. The Three-Eyed Crow will know just how little everything that happened at Winterfell mattered. Bran had to leave Winterfell, he _had_ to.

Perhaps one day he'll thank Theon for it.

 _But it was bigger than life, just as it was bigger than death._

* * *

 _He tried talking to the sea,_

Bran wonders sometimes what happened to him, and then he wants to slap himself for even caring. He's probably dead, killed when Winterfell burned, like most of the people who ever lived there. At first Bran assumed it must have been him who did it, because who else would ( _but would he do that?_ Bran wondered, and then he wanted to slap himself for even doubting it), but then Osha told him otherwise and so. But Bran knows he would have, he _knows_ it.

He is not tempted, when he dreams in Summer's body, to run back to Winterfell and see if he can make sense of what happened. What would be the point? What is there to understand? _The ironborn took our castle and sacked it. We're not the first._ Bran doesn't want to wonder anymore. He doesn't want to feel that aching pain and the aching guilt that it still hurts so much.

It is not until he reaches the cave of the Three-Eyed Crow that the temptation overwhelms him. But, he reasons, it is Winterfell he cares about, Winterfell that is his home, and he wants to see if somehow it has been brought back by now (he wonders if Robb has returned, he wonders if Robb knows he's still alive, and then he doesn't want to wonder again). He is not looking for anything there. For anyone.

Then he peers through the eyes of the heart tree and sees a mess of white hair and broken fingers. And Bran does not, cannot understand.

 _But his brain shuttered and his eyes winced from it as from open flame._

* * *

 _He tried hating the sea,_

Ramsay beats Theon until he cowers and whimpers and bleeds, and Bran thinks _good_ ; Ramsay sneers in Theon's face that Theon belongs to him now, because no-one else could ever love him, everyone else wants him dead, and Bran thinks _good_ ; Ramsay does things to Theon that Bran does not have words for and Bran thinks _good_ as he stares down to the roots of the weirwood. _You always look at your feet just before you lie,_ his mother used to tell him.

But his mother is gone, isn't she; no not gone, _dead_ , and Robb too, and it wouldn't have happened if Theon hadn't made them think _they_ were dead, if not for Robb's grief (if Bran didn't run away in the first place), and so why should Bran care what Ramsay does with him now? Why shouldn't he think this is everything Theon deserves?

He does care about Jeyne, even though he didn't really know her, but she was Sansa's friend and he can only imagine how Sansa would feel if she knew what's become of her. Bran wants to help her, but he has no idea how. He imagines the Three-Eyed Crow would admonish him for getting distracted by petty concerns.

All of Winterfell can hear Jeyne cry and Bran hears Theon cry along with her, sometimes, quietly where no-one will hear. Bran wants to scream at him. _Why should you care?! You didn't care so much about Mikken, or Farlen, or Ser Rodrik, or Beth, or the miller's boys, or Rickon, or me, so why would you care about her?!_ But Theon looks so broken when he hears Jeyne scream that Bran starts to feel cruel. He imagines what his father would think to see a prisoner in such a state, any prisoner, and then Bran wants to sob.

 _Good,_ he tries to tell himself as he watches Theon, proud Theon who was raised by his side, slink around the castle like a beaten dog, starved and mad and terrified. _It's what he deserves._ But it is so hard to watch.

 _But instantly felt like a scrutty dry rabbit-dropping on the windy cliff._

* * *

 _He tried sympathy for the sea,_

Theon cries in the Godswood and Bran feels like he should not be here, that he should not let Theon try and take comfort from him, but he also feels like he should not leave. He is caught in between and so he stays there and listens as Theon sobs and pleads.

 _A sword, that's all I ask._ Bran remembers Theon at sword practice with Robb and Jon, distracted and throwing out his little japes throughout, then getting cross when they inevitably beat him, asserting the superiority of the bow. It was a sword in his hand when he came through Bran's door though, telling him to yield the castle, not to play the boy because Theon wouldn't stand for it, and Bran was frightened, he was confused, but even then, he didn't feel like Theon would hurt him.

 _Let me die as Theon, not as Reek._ Bran almost doesn't understand for a moment, because Theon has always been Theon to him, from day he was born to the day Theon stole his home from him with a sword and soft word. He didn't really believe it, that Theon could do such a thing, that this was really _Theon._ But it was, it had to be, for his people were dead because of it, and so Bran taught himself that yes, this was Theon – this was the only Theon, and anything before had just been a lie, one he was too old to fall for anymore. He never even liked Theon, not really.

 _I was a ward of Ned Stark, I was a friend to his children._ Bran so wants to believe that's a lie, but he knows that Ramsay's beaten all the lies from Theon. _I have my own ghosts. A brother I loved, a brother I hated,_ the Three-Eyed Crow once told him. But what of a brother he both loved and hated?

Theon looks up at the Heart Tree, looking for something in those red eyes and Theon can _see_ him, even if Bran knows that doesn't make any sense, he knows Theon knows he's there. _I hate you,_ he wants to say. _Don't you dare ask me to forgive you. You deserve this, you deserve all of it._ He doesn't mean it, not a word. _Theon..._

He reaches out, leaves brushing Theon's brow. It's something his mother would do if he was upset, ever so wise, and Bran has never felt less wise. He just doesn't want Theon to hurt anymore. He doesn't know if he wants the man saved or he wants him dead, but he knows he wants him to be free of this.

And then Theon makes it out, with Jeyne. Bran doesn't know what to feel. Maybe he should be happy, maybe be angry, maybe he should be frightened, but what he is isn't so easy to name. He feels something, and it swirls and circles him like a furious storm.

 _But it shouldered him off, as a dead thing shoulders you off._

* * *

 _He tried just being in the same world as the sea,_

Theon is free and now Lord – King – Bran isn't sure – Stannis has him, and he's going to execute him. It hurts Bran's heart to think of it, but it's probably for the best. It's what Father would do, what Robb would do if they were here now, and at least Theon will be at peace. Stannis is a just man, Father always said, and Bran knows he's not going to draw it out, not going to make Theon suffer any longer. But Bran feels a gnawing sense of guilt when they say it's _his_ life Theon needs to pay the debt for, even if he knows they would still execute him for treason even if they did know, and Theon never speaks the truth. Bran doesn't understand why, until he remembers that friend of Jon's, and how he made him promise not to speak a word of their survival to anyone, not even his brother. _He is trying to keep us safe._ Then Bran's heart hurts more.

Stannis' followers speak of the Red God and his flames, of death by fire being the purest death, and then Bran starts to panic.

He watches with a raven's eye as a woman comes into the tent, and Bran doesn't know her but she looks like Theon, or at least she looks more like Theon than he himself does, and this must be the sister Bran always knew he had, but who he never really talked about. She pleads for his life and Bran hates listening, because he wants to echo every word, and he knows he shouldn't. Why can't he just want Theon dead? Why can't it be easy?

Luckily, Stannis is immoveable, and the woman quickly recognises her cause is lost. Bran feels sorry for her. But she convinces Stannis not to let them burn him, to take his head before the Heart Tree, and that is for the best, that's what Father would have done, and Theon will be at peace and Bran will be able to be the for him before he dies–

And with a bird's breath, Bran starts to scream.

 _But his lungs were not deep enough._


End file.
